


Collateral Harry

by Dylan_Black, MeirhaBlack



Category: Collateral Beauty (2016), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Lucifer (Comic), The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: F/F, F/M, I need to quit watching life studies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylan_Black/pseuds/Dylan_Black, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeirhaBlack/pseuds/MeirhaBlack
Summary: What would you do to help your friend?  What would you be willing to sacrifice?Harry Potter is at his wits end when three friends decide to change everything with a very dangerous ritual.This is not so much a single story but a series of vignettes in this world.





	Collateral Harry

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer 1 - Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of J. K. Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers and likely several other beings that are not me. Several characters also take inspiration from personifications presented in Vertigo’s Sandman, a Property of DC Entertainment. Blue Bloods and related characters are the property of Paw in Your Face Productions and CBS Television Studios. These characters are being used without permission and no monies are being made. There is also a quote from Buffy: The Vampire Slayer which is Property of Mutant Enemy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television, also used without permission. Again no money is being made and no infringement is intended.
> 
> Disclaimer 2 - This story takes some inspiration from several books and films, most notably Collateral Beauty and the works of Neil Gaiman. I have done my best to put my own spin on these ideas but would be remiss if I did not give credit where it is due. Later chapters, as I write them will likely have other specific inspirations at the end of the chapters.
> 
> Disclaimer 3 - If you have read my work before, welcome back. If you have not, then allow me to introduce myself. I am a crass, vulgar and sarcastic jerk that has quite a warped sense of humor. If you are easily offended or disturbed by scenes of teenagers acting like teenagers, poor decisions, implied underage sex or violence of any form, I suggest you find another author. While I am not guaranteeing any of the aforementioned in this story, I will not hesitate to use it if I feel it is necessary for the story. You have been warned.

Part 1 - Collateral Harry

 

“...Be warned, once the entities are unleashed they will do as they see fit and react to what has transpired on their own accord.  If one has transgressed against the focus, that transgression may be turned back upon them regardless of the transgressor’s intent.”

Hermione shuddered as she read the passage from the book a second time.  Was she certain that she wanted to use this ritual? Was she willing to pay the price?  Her mind drifted back to how Harry had acted on the train just nine days earlier. She had only been released from the Hospital wing that morning and was still a bit weak, but even in her impaired state she could tell that Harry was pulling away and within himself.  

Ron and Ginny were as oblivious as ever and Hermione had cringed as the Order confronted Harry’s beastly relatives.  Worry had of course gone into full blown panic when three days had passed and Harry hadn’t written anyone. The answer hadn’t comforted anyone really.  The Dursleys hadn’t hurt him it turned out but Harry was essentially non-responsive to everyone. Something had to be done.

She looked back at the book that Sirius had given her for Christmas.  It was one of the few non-dark books in the Black Library, but just because it wasn’t dark didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous in its own way.  The tome told of rituals that would call upon the ancient primordial forces of the universe, not to warp or control but instead to worship and receive counsel from.  In essence, this was a tome describing the ancient religion of wizardkind. 

So the question remained, did she dare do this with the possible result that she would have to face how she had wronged Harry herself?    Further, who could she get to help her with the ritual? It was obvious that there would have to be more than one with each additional member calling forth another random primordial to speak to Harry before moving on.  It seemed however that the minimum was three. 

Most of the adults were out.  They seemed to believe that Albus was right and that a fifteen-year-old boy should be left to stew in guilt and despair over the loss of his godfather.  Ron and Ginny were out as well since they seemed to be hung up on the Boy-Who-Lived instead of the friend who barely made it through each year by the skin of his teeth.  Oh, if only she knew where some of the DA members were about now.

As if in answer to her query, she heard the door chime downstairs.  

“Hello Hermione,” Luna said in her airy way.  “Neville and I have come to help you with your ritual.”

“Luna?  Neville?”  Hermione blinked and stepped aside to allow them entry.  “How do you know where I live? And how do you know about the ritual?  I only just decided to try it.”

Luna skipped into the living room and looked around in curiosity.  “Well in order, I used my press credentials to get your address from the Ministry and as for how I knew about the ritual, Dylan floated me an advanced copy of the script to ensure everyone was in their proper place.”

“Press credentials?  Script?”

Neville patted Hermione on the shoulder as he led her to a seat.  “It’s Luna, Hermione. Most of the time no one quite knows what is going on with her, but it’s almost always a good idea to go along with her when she tells you that you need to go with her.  Now, why don’t you tell me what’s going on with Harry.”

Hermione fidgeted for a minute before responding.  “He’s hurting, Neville. I know he is. Every year he’s being forced to face more and more death and destruction and instead of Dumbledore getting him help, he keeps shuffling him off to those damnable Dursleys.  Further, no one seems to be either willing or able to defy Dumbledore and get Harry any help. Mother of God Neville, he just saw his godfather murdered this year and last year it was Cedric. You know it’s got to be running around in his mind as to which of us is next.  Even worse, Harry was supposed to write to the Order every three days and instead is just staring off out his window according to Tonks. I...I’m afraid he might do something dangerous.”

“What kind of dangerous?” Neville gently prodded.

Hermione closed her eyes and willed herself to go on.  “I’m afraid he might try to hurt himself.”

Neville looked over at Luna who only nodded.  With a sigh, Neville nodded as well. “Yeah, I hate to say this but I think you might be onto something Hermione.  Why don’t you show us this ritual and let’s get started.”

“Are you sure, Neville?”

“Yeah.”

***

Harry sat on one of the non-broken swings at the park and watched the cars pass by on to the much faster roadway out of Little Whinging.  It occurred to him that if he were to just step out into traffic at just the right time, then possibly it could all be over. It’d probably hurt like hell, but really did he deserve anything less?

“You’re right about it hurting like hell,” a feminine voice replied next to him, “but you’d likely survive and then have to deal with a nagging pain the rest of your life after they put you back together.”

Harry turned and saw a dark-haired young woman sitting on a swing he could have sworn was broken just a few seconds ago.  “I beg your pardon?”

The woman smiled sadly.  “You were thinking about jumping out in traffic. It was kinda written on your face.  I wouldn’t recommend it, Harry. I’m told it hurts like hell and you would likely limp away from it.  Now if you wanted to assure a messy end, my money is on jumping in front of the Underground. Not that that is a suggestion or anything.  You really shouldn’t try to speed up your departure time. Makes an awful mess of things in the hereafter.”

Harry blinked and unconsciously shivered at the thought of death by locomotive.  “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”

The young woman chuckled and began to swing back and forth.  “We’ve passed each other a time or three. Some would almost be certain that we should be on a first name basis.”

Harry frowned.  “And yet I don’t know your name.”

The woman shook her head.  “Names have power, Harry. You would have learned that in Ancient Runes.  But no, you had to make Ron happy and skive off in the easy subjects.” She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.  “I really expected better of you.”

“So you go to Hogwarts,”  Harry concluded. “What house?”

“Does it really matter in the long run?” she asked.  “Or is it that you are still trying to place a name with my face?”

“The latter,” Harry admitted.  “I’ve come to realize that every house has their terrible people.”

“Really?” the woman asked with a hint of a smile.  “Even your own?”

Harry grimaced and looked back at the traffic.  “You’re looking at him.” He quickly found himself receiving a slap to the back of the head for his comment.  “Ow! What was that for?”

The woman scowled at him.  “Well since Hermione isn’t here to smack some sense in you someone had to.”  The woman stood and held out her hand. “Come along, Harry James. I think it’s about time that you had a clear look at yourself and just what kind of person you really are instead of that load of codswallop that Petunia and Vernon have been spewing for the better part of fourteen years.”

Harry looked at her hand warily.  “I don’t even know who you are and you want me to go with you.  How do I know that you aren’t trying to set me up to kill me?”

“Really Harry, if I wanted you dead then you’d simply cease to exist.  Not that I particularly want anyone to go before their time. It’s always so confusing and never once has it made things easier for everyone.”

“Who the bloody Hell are you!”

The woman rolled her eyes and sighed.  “Hell has very little to do with me. The same with Heaven.  Still as you wish. I was with you when you nearly fell off your broom first year and later still when Professor Quirrell died by your hands.  I was there when you killed the Basilisk and you almost joined me when it bit your arm. I was there when the Dementors drove you off your broom in third year and when the Horntail got close to sending you on your way in fourth.  I was there in the graveyard and when you fended off the Dementors last summer. Most of all I was there when your godfather was sent through my veil and out of your life. Who am I, Harry?”

Harry snorted in derision. “Sounds like you’re Death.  So what, are you supposed to take me to Hell for all the shite I’ve caused? Aren’t you supposed to have some big ruddy scythe to take down the masses?”

The woman sat down again on that swing Harry was nearly certain was broken before she arrived.  “That’s the big thing that everyone gets wrong about me. I’m not so eager for you to all come running into my embrace to fly you off to your great reward or next adventure or whatever else you fashion in your mind.  I’m just the doorman as it were. There to greet you as you come over and show you on to where you’re supposed to go. I’m the one that sits around making sure everyone is checked in and let me tell you those early entries are a pain in the posterior.”

Harry looked down.  “Like Sirius,” he muttered.  “Sorry about that.”

Death looked at Harry in confusion. “Sorry about what?”

“Sirius dying ahead of his time.  It was my fault.”

“Well let’s start with why you think it was your fault,” Death replied with a comforting smile.

“If I never went to the Ministry,” Harry choked out.  “I should have tried the mirror or had Dobby go look for him.”

“You did tell Severus Snape,” Death reminded him.

“A fat lot of good that did,” Harry snapped.  “They didn’t show up until it was almost all over and then…” Harry fought back the sob that threatened to explode from him.

“Funny that,” Death commented.  “It took you lot about five hours as the Thestral flies to get there and Severus could have flooed to where your godfather was and had a group waiting to meet you at the Ministry within at most an hour.  You should have been grabbed by Order members within the first five minutes of showing up. Isn’t it odd that they didn’t show up until you were almost out of the Department of Mysteries.”

Harry blinked.  “That’s not right.”

“No, it’s not.  In point of fact, I happen to agree with Molly Weasley that children should never be used to fight a war started by adults.  Of course, if people ever considered my opinion then I’d imagine the world would be quite a bit less violent and a bit more boring.”

“But the prophecy...”

Death made a face before reaching down and picking up a handful of sand.  “Do you know why sand became the marker of time in the ancient world?” At his confused glance, she turned her hand and let it slide through her fingers.  “Because it was bloody hell to contain or control. Even today, when you transport a load of sand anywhere, there is still a bit that’s lost in transit that even the most tightly locked container will lose.  You can’t predict how it’s going to shift or move or if it is even going to move at all. You can’t control it, can barely contain it and it is practically everywhere but where you need it.”

Harry blinked in realization.  “Like time.”

Death smiled.  “Exactly like time, Harry.  No one can predict the future, in spite of what people would have you believe.  Prophecies are at best vague guesses and at worst empty fairy tales that foolish old men grasp onto in order to cover up their inadequacies.  I can not tell you how many billions of people have needlessly died waiting for some prophesied messiah to deliver them from their enemies when if they had simply risen up, yes they may have still died but they would have at least died on their own terms.”

“Still,”  Harry looked away.  “If I hadn’t been there then Sirius wouldn’t have gone.”

“And if Sirius Black had treated the damn firefight the least bit like the trained fighter that he was and not screwing about like a Top of the Pops dancer, he wouldn’t have been bounced through my veil without so much as a how do you do.  I quite delighted in dropping his mangy tail off for your parents to read him the riot act. Not to mention a few of his former trainers that wanted to tear strips off him for acting like a complete idiot instead of passing his knowledge down to you kids when he had the chance.”

Death produced a couple candy bars and handed one to Harry before biting into her own.  “You want someone to blame for Sirius’ death? Blame the Order for dragging their feet getting to the Ministry.  Blame Sirius for screwing around instead of fighting and protecting you. Hell, blame the crazy bitch that shot the spell. But don’t for one instant think that any of this mess is your fault.”

Harry looked at the candy bar and took a bite.  “Wow, this is pretty good.”

Death grinned.  “Yeah. Shame you can’t get them in the world of the living anymore.”  At Harry’s shocked look, she laughed. “I’m Death, Harry. I’m there when all things die, even ideas.”  She sobered up a bit and took the boy’s hand. “I kinda bent the rules today because I don’t want to see you before your time.  You are better than diving out into traffic because people expect a fifteen-year-old boy to take on their problems. I don’t want to see you on the other side until it’s your time.  Got it?”

Harry sighed.  “Right. Facing off against Voldemort.”

Death smacked him on the back of the head again. “Wrong. Dying of exertion after completing your, your wife’s and your girlfriend’s bucket lists on your eighty-third birthday. Am I clear mister?”

Harry nodded mutely as he rubbed the back of his head.  “Wait, why would I have a wife and a girlfriend?”

Death gave him a wink as she began to fade from sight.  “Ask Hermione. I think she could think up a few possibilities.”

After sitting there a few more moments, Harry decided to head home.  The rest of the afternoon bled into evening which ended in Harry sitting at the broken desk in his room.  With little aplomb, Harry pulled out a sheet of parchment and wrote a letter.

Dear Remus,

I hope this letter finds you in somewhat better spirits than I was earlier.  You see I was feeling horrible for causing Sirius’ death when, well I guess you’d call her a friend, shed some light on the realities of the situation.  Don’t worry, she’s in the know as you might say and I don’t think you’d be too familiar with her. At least I hope you’re not as familiar with her as I have become.  Anyway, she brought up a very significant point that hadn’t occurred to me.

It took us five hours to get to the Ministry on the Thestrals. Why wasn’t there someone waiting to stop us?  Snape took a Floo trip to Headquarters which is nearly instantaneous and could have sent a Patronus to someone to let them know that we were likely inbound.  Merlin, someone like Dumbledore could have had the entire Order there within a half hour. So why is it that you lot showed up after we were almost out of the Department and in the middle of the fight for our lives?

I’m not meaning to accuse anyone of anything.  It just seems like a lot of wasted time, especially since there are four Aurors and three other ministry workers in the Order that could have been there already.  I’m just trying to make sense of it all. 

I’d like to say I’m alright, but I’m not.  I miss Sirius and my friend was actually talking me back from something that was really stupid now that I look back on it.  Hermione once said that I have a saving people thing. I think it’s more of a guilt thing. So many people have over the years said this or that was my fault that a part of me believes it.  Even when it’s people like Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Snape saying it, you can’t help but wonder if they are telling the truth since it’s being said so much.

I really wish there was someone that I could talk to about all this.

Harry

He rolled it up and found Hedwig already waiting for him.  After tying the letter to her leg, he then gently patted her head.  “No need to wait for a response girl. I doubt Remus will have a ready answer.”  Hedwig gently nipped Harry’s fingers and was quickly gone.

***

Two days later Remus stormed into the Order meeting and without warning laid Severus Snape out with a single punch.  “You contemptuous sack of thestral shite! Did you get what you wanted Snivelous! Did you get your petty fucking revenge!”  Remus punctuated the last statement with a well-placed kick to the kidneys, ruining any concentration the man could hope to muster.  “Five fucking hours! You had five fucking hours to get everyone there! What in Merlin’s name were you doing in that time! Playing with yourself as you imagined my brother in all but blood dying just like you killed James and Lily!”

Tonks and Shacklebolt managed to pull Remus off the potions professor after another couple kicks had been delivered.  “Remus, calm down and tell us what’s this all about!”

Remus thrust the letter into Kingsley’s hand and once it was read, the Auror looked to be ready to join his werewolf friend.  “Is this true Severus? You had five hours and you did nothing.”

“I told Albus!” Severus shouted as he held his jaw and side.  “I sent him a Patronus and he responded that he would handle it!”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone else,” the Lead Auror hissed.  “You could have sent a message to one of us and we could have been there to head them off!”

“Oh yes,” Snape sneered.  “Prince Potter needs to be protected from the horrors of war.  Perhaps now he will-”

His words were cut off by another strike, this time from the walking cane of Minerva McGonagall.  “Severus Snape! You allowed students, CHILDREN, to go into harm’s way while doing nothing but the absolute minimum to cover your own sorry arse.  I already knew you were a disgrace of an instructor but now I see that you are still the loathsome little boy who liked to blame others for his own shortcomings.  You are a disgrace to Slytherin House and moreso a disgrace to Hogwarts. Further, you have admitted to violating your oaths to the school. I move that you be cast out of Hogwarts immediately on the grounds of child endangerment and collusion with an enemy of the school.”

Severus sneered at Minerva.  “Albus would never let you do such a thing.”

“Ah and there’s the rub,” Filius answered as he walked over to Minerva’s side.  “Albus can’t interfere in this lad. Not so long as she has two Heads of House that agree with her.  Personally, I’d much rather you be stripped of your magic and tossed in Azkaban, but making sure you don’t ruin any more children in the future will work as well.  House Ravenclaw agrees with Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and House Gryffindor on Severus Snape’s Expulsion from Hogwarts’ grounds.”

Severus chuckled.  “So now what, you tell Pomona and hope she isn’t the forgiving little doormat?”

Filius cocked his head. “Why would we have to do that?  We already have two Heads of House agreeing. Or do you believe that Minerva is secretly warring with herself over the decision?  I assure you that she is not.”

“But Albus-” Snape started and quickly realized that he had no friends in the room.  Choosing retreat as the better tactic here, he instead asked. “Shall I be allowed to gather my things at least?”

“They will be sent to you,” Minerva countered, “after Aurors Shacklebolt, Jones and Tonks have gone through them to ensure that no Hogwarts property or illicit items are being removed from evidence.”

“And before you run to Albus,” came a deadly calm voice from the corner, “be sure that he will soon have enough to deal with in regards to endangering my children.”  Everyone turned toward the voice to see the steely gaze of Arthur Weasley on the potions professor. “And before you scoff Severus Snape, I suggest you ask Mulciber and Rookwood who gave them their distinctive limps.  I’ll not be as kind to you if you should ever be found about one of my children ever again. In point of fact, I would suggest relocation to somewhere I and my kin will not be able to find you.”

***

The morning previous, Harry awoke completely unaware as to how his first letter was going to ignite the powder keg that was the Order of the Phoenix. In fact, the only thing that he was truly aware of was that there was someone in his room.  Realizing that there was little point in any sudden moves as he was one essentially blind without his glasses and two likely at wand point already if the person meant him harm, he calmly reached over and gathered his glasses before looking at the other occupant of the room.  Needless to say, his guest was impressive.

There seated in Harry’s barely stable chair as if it was the most comfortable seat in the world was a man with a narrow face, burnished bronze hair, a lithe frame and wearing leather pants, leather boots with a sizable heel and a violet y-front t-shirt with the legend “You’re Welcome” across the front in bright yellow letters.     

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes.  “Mind if I go freshen up before I ask what the bloody Hell you’re doing in my room?”

“Be my guest,” the man said as the legend on the shirt changed to read “Don’t let me stop you.”

Harry merely shook his head and went about his morning routine.  When he returned, he noticed that the legend on the shirt changed again to read “Three Guesses”.  Instead of yelling about the Statute of Secrecy violations or even how his relatives would react to something so magical, Harry sat down.  “I’m beginning to feel that I’ve either done something really wrong or really right to be visited like this. First, I was visited by Death yesterday and now I’m in the presence of Magic.”

The man chuckled.  “Are you sure it’s you that did something and not some other rulebreaker.”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment then shook his head.  “Ron’s too lazy and Hermione wouldn’t do anything unless I did something first.”  He paused in thought again before slapping himself in the face. “Or she thought I was in trouble.  I can’t hide anything from her.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” the man responded.  “I mean after yesterday, weren’t you wanting someone to talk over things?”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted.  “But the things that I wanted to go over involved you.”

Magic cocked his head in curiosity.  “How so?”

“Well, not you per se, but parts of you.  Like how does a prophecy work and if the Avada is supposed to work every time, then why did I survive?  And then I started wondering how I’m supposed to defeat a man that has half a century experience on me and can duel Dumbledore to a standstill.”

Magic chuckled and shook his head.  “Harry, you’re asking all the wrong questions.”

Harry ran his hand through his hair in irritation.  “Then what questions should I be asking?”

“Well that’s a good one right there,” Magic answered before standing up and directing Harry to sit in his place.  His shirt changed it’s legend again, this time reading “Screwing Fate 101”. Once Harry had pulled out a parchment and quill, Magic began. “First thing you need to know is not what you don’t have.  That’s the easy part and if you look at it right away you’ll only get depressed. The first thing you need to know is what you do have. Now, this is a bit trickier, especially when there are people that are trying to keep you from finding out what exactly you do have because it messes with their grand fantastic schemes.”

Harry frowned.  “I don’t follow...or I do and I really don’t like where this is heading.”

“Think about it Harry,” Magic said gently. “Where is everything valuable kept in Magical Britain?”

“Gringotts,” he replied as if it were obvious.

“And who would know what resources your parents and others may have left for you at Gringotts?”

“The Goblins,” Harry answered as if he’d never thought of it before.

“And why hasn’t anyone suggested you go to Gringotts to find out what you have?”

Harry frowned.  “Yeah, why haven’t they?  Why hasn’t Dumbledore? Bloody Hell, he sent me with Hagrid the first time I was in Diagon Alley.  Does he want me to die?”

“The simplest answer is that it didn’t fit in with his plans.”  Magic held up a hand to forestall Harry’s outraged squawk. “That is not to say that it was done with any malice.  You will find that when people reach a certain age they develop a form of tunnel vision. In the civilized world, it tends to happen about sixteen to eighteen years of age.  Unless they are shaken out of that mindset, it often worsens as one grows older. Muggles created universities and trade schools in a vain attempt to create an artificial opening of a person’s perspective but it can only go so far.  Alas, there is nothing similar in the magical world.”

“So because Dumbledore has tunnel vision and can’t see anything but his own path, I’m being handicapped.”

“Never underestimate the power of well-meaning idiots who believe themselves infallible,” Magic replied as his shirt took on the legend, “Ask me about Atlantis...or Camelot...or Eden...or...well you get the idea”. 

“Right,” Harry sighed as he looked at the paper.  “So who do I write to for help? I mean, I remember Griphook but I don’t think he could really tell me anything.”

“I would recommend asking if you could schedule a meeting with your accounts manager and also add to have it go through Arthur Weasley’s oldest with a response.  That way, you at least have a friendly face who can introduce you properly.” After Harry had penned that letter, Magic continued. “Now let us look at resources outside of Gringotts.  I can think of at least three people who you can ask assistance from in regards to training that you have never even thought to trouble.”

Harry blinked owlishly before responding “Who?”

“Remus Lupin, Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum.” 

Harry shrugged and nodded.  “It seemed a bit too soon after Cedric died to ask Fleur and Viktor then but you’re probably right about Remus being willing to teach me a thing or two.  Sirius could have sent me a book or two if I’d asked when he was alive.” Harry paused and took a breath to ease the tightening in his chest. “Sorry, I know I’m not to blame, but it still hurts.”

Magic patted Harry on the shoulder.  “It will hurt less in time. For now, let’s concentrate on getting you through the next few years of your life.  How about writing to Miss Delacour and Mr. Krum for now and leave asking Remus for help to after he’s responded to your first one.  If you send them with the one to Gringotts, they can forward them to international post owls if necessary.”

Once Harry was finished with the letters he turned back to Magic.  “Okay, now what?”

“Now you decide what you want to do and how you want to go about it,” Magic replied with his shirt adding “And maybe think about breakfast”.  

Harry’s own grumbling stomach made him blink in realization.  “Wow, How long have we been talking?”

“How long has it been since you last ate a proper meal might be the better question.”  Magic led Harry downstairs where the young man found that his relatives had seemingly long since vacated.  Not surprising since it was one of Uncle Vernon’s early days at Grunnings and Aunt Petunia preferred to get the grocery shopping done early in the summer.  “I do not believe that your aunt and uncle realize the dangerous path they were following,” Magic continued as he made a rather large sandwich and placed it in front of Harry.  “Eat.”

Harry obediently tore into the sandwich and looked at Magic curiously. “What do you mean?”

Magic looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.  “You realize that I am merely a representative of the greater force of magic correct?”  At Harry’s nod, he continued. “Magic flows through everyone and everything. Some more than others.  A few like yourself much more. Magic will at times try to protect those it is especially fond of like yourself and Neville in bouts of what Wizards like to call accidental magic.  Contrary to popular opinion it is not the magic that is accidental but rather what usually causes it. There is another possibility, however.”

Magic took a seat opposite Harry and conjured a small model.  “Occasionally, a very young witch will get it in their head that the magic that is protecting them is the cause of all their pain and suffering and try to lock it away.  Unfortunately, this can cause an even greater problem. You see, I was being literal when I said that Magic flows through everything so when you try to lock it away, it instead is being dammed up inside the person.  Over time, the dammed up magic swirls and twists in on itself becoming alive and somewhat sentient, much in the same way a familiar or post owl is sentient. However, unlike your average familiar this creation is rather destructive and resentful and once strong enough will lash out at almost everything around it.  Called an Obscurus, it is a force of violent and destructive magical power.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Harry commented.

“And ultimately fatal to the host,” Magic admitted sadly.  “As well as many bystanders depending on how powerful the Obscurus becomes before it finally consumes its host.”

Harry looked thoughtful as he finished his sandwich.  “You don’t suppose that Professor Dumbledore was trying to create one with either me or Neville.”

“Albus Dumbledore would know better than to try something so foolish,” Magic growled darkly.  “Especially since he has been in the presence of one first hand. His sister could have been a greater witch than Albus could have ever hoped to match.  Instead, his arrogance and inattentiveness cost him not only his parents but also the sweetest young girl you could have ever met. His crimes against me are only exceeded by his crimes against another.”

Magic stilled and took a breath before continuing.  “No Harry, I do not believe that Albus Dumbledore intended to have either you or Neville create an Obscurus as the result would have likely ended the Wizarding World.  That being said, he very nearly ended up with that or worse due to his own arrogance and ignorance. Something I feel will soon be corrected whether he likes it or not.”

***

It was an hour after Severus had made a rather hasty retreat when the great Albus Dumbledore made his grand entrance, but not to the reception he had expected.  As he looked around at the very dark looks he was receiving and the absence of Severus Snape, even someone as oblivious as Ronald Weasley would have been able to sense something was amiss.

Before the aged headmaster could inquire what was wrong, it was William Weasley who stepped forward first.  Slapping a piece of parchment against Albus’ chest, he declared in an overly formal manner that revealed his anger at the man more than any shouting would have done, “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have been officially served notice to appear before the Goblin High Council in Gringotts at seven thirty in the morning with your solicitor and any defense you can manage to muster for your crimes.  Note that any attempt to evade or fail to attend will have you made an enemy of the Goblin people and to be killed on sight at their leisure. I would highly recommend that you arrive on time and fully prepared to grovel for any mercy that they may be willing to give, which honestly is likely none.”

Albus blinked and took hold of the parchment in confusion.  “May I inquire as to the charges against me?”

“They are spelled out in the summons,” Bill bit out, “but a quick rundown would be attempted theft from a goblin friend, dereliction of duties towards one’s ward, conspiracy to defraud two ancient and noble houses, interference in Gringotts business and misappropriation of funds.”

Before Albus could begin to formulate a response to those,  Arthur stepped forward and hit him with another parchment. “The Goblins also forwarded information to Amelia in regards to some non-monetary criminal charges they want to be addressed.  Namely kidnapping, child neglect, accessory to child abuse, conspiracy to create an Obscurus, and conspiracy to commit murder by proxy.” Arthur followed this up with a well-placed swing that broke Albus’ nose in a way that his brother could only dream of all those years past.  

“You promised us that he was being cared for!” Arthur raged down at the supposed leader of the light.  “Every concern we brought up! Every worry or question we were promised that you would look into it and that it was nothing!  We trusted you and you lied to us! Why! So your master plan could proceed! You sanctimonious pillock! Harry’s a fifteen-year-old boy!  Not a weapon for you to fashion! And what about the Ministry debacle! You knew about it five hours before the children would get there! FIVE HOURS!  Why wasn’t there someone to stop them! And if you so much as mention that so-called greater good that you are always on the children about, I will personally feed you your teeth before ridding this world of your diseased world view!”

Albus was shocked to see the normally calm and somewhat genial man in a state of raw fury at him.  “Arthur, I assure you there was a reason no matter how regrettable.”

“Regrettable!” Arthur screamed back as he sent a kick at Albus’ side.  “You let my children face overwhelming odds and it is merely regrettable!  I ought to kill you for that alone!”

At that, the twins were at Arthur’s side pulling him back.  “No Dad!” one of the called out as they restrained him.

“He’s not worth it,” soothed the other, shooting Albus a look of absolute loathing.   

Albus looked about in dismay as it appeared everyone had turned on him.  “Arthur, I deeply regret that your son and daughter accompanied Harry-”

“Sons and daughters!”  Arthur cut Albus off while correcting him.  “My sons and daughters went into that trap to save someone they thought was in danger and you could have prevented it.  Instead, you played your little game so that your grand master plan could come to fruition. And before you ask, I formally adopted Harry and Hermione into the Weasley clan in thanks for their saving Ginny’s life and Luna has always been welcome at our house since before her mother’s passing and Molly has done her best over the years to look after the girl when she could. So yes, sons and daughters.  Children you allowed to be tortured so you could continue your little chess game with a monster and his branded sycophants.”

“That’s all we are to him,” Remus spoke up.  “Pieces on a chessboard.” The werewolf walked up, his inner beast obviously present but not in control.  “I used to be so grateful to him that he would allow me to attend Hogwarts with my condition. That he went out of his way to make sure I was able to have an education and taking care of so many precautions so that others wouldn’t be in danger.  However, it later occurred to me that he only wanted a tool, someone he could use to sway the werewolves’ opinion of him. If it was some act of hope and generosity, then why haven’t there been other werewolves at Hogwarts? But that’s just it. He only needed the one.”

“It’s the same with all Gryffindors,” Bill added.  “On the surface he looks like he favors us, but those supposed favors only isolate us from others down the line.  He encourages the house rivalries while trying to preach house unity. All the time, Gryffindor and more precisely the Muggleborns are constantly belittled and ostracized while the supposed evil Slytherins use connections that were denied to the people Dumbledore supposedly favors to keep us struggling for any work.”

“No,” Albus protested. “That’s not true at all.”

“Isn’t it sir?” one of the twins countered.  “You speak of unity and togetherness, but all your closest confidants and followers talk about how evil this person is or untrustworthy another is.  Hagrid hates Slytherins with a blinding passion and Snape would go out of his way to isolate Gryffindor house before Harry showed up. With Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick having their hands tied by your interference it’s no wonder that Hogwarts is more of a madhouse than a school.”

McGonagall took over at that point.  “They have all raised valid points that I am sure you are going to disregard, so I am going to put you on notice.  I and Filius have already dismissed Severus from the school and with Pomona’s already given agreement we are hereby relieving you of your administrative duties at Hogwarts.  We will secure Defense and Potions Professors as well as what other new positions as we see fit. You will not interact with the student body nor will you be welcome for the time being at staff meetings.”

“What gives you the right!” Albus thundered in response.

“Hogwarts is a school!” Minerva shouted back.  “It is a school full of students that we are charged with protecting!  Something you have completely neglected since becoming headmaster! Something that has been brought fully to our attention in this past year as YOU insisted that WE avoid confrontation with a child abuser and attempted murderer!  You have either failed in or completely disregarded your duties to the school and the student body for your own agenda for long enough. I would personally bring your actions before the board of Governors if not for the fact that they are all currently wanted for questioning.  As it stands, I would not get too comfortable since it turns out that two of the seats on the board belong to Mr. Potter and by the letter Remus received, he’s not likely to be too enamored with you.”

“We must show a united front,” Albus insisted.  “The Death Eaters will see any division amongst us as a victory.”

“I wonder how victorious it will feel when they start gettin’ reductors to the head,”  Moody growled before looking at the other Aurors present. “That’s standin’ orders from now on.  If they’re goin’ to be usin’ lethal spells then the kid gloves come off.”

“No,” Albus protested.  “We mustn’t descend to their level.”

“Descend to their level?”  Moody shot back. “You mean like lettin’ a child be tortured, forcin’ him to watch friends and loved ones killed in front of him and then believin’ in some fairy tale to come and rescue us all?  Let me spell it out for you, Albus. Defending yourself from murderin’ scum ain’t sinkin’ to their level. It’s called stayin’ alive an’ in one piece. Now torturin’ and endangerin’ children while preachin’ that murderers and rapists need to be coddled and gentled back?  In my book that makes you worse than Voldemort. At least he does all his stuff out in the open.”

Albus reacted as if he’d been physically struck by his longtime friend’s words.  “Is that truly how you think of me?” he asked the room. “That I am completely without remorse for my actions or what needs to be done.”

“That’s just it,” Tonks spoke up.  “Does it need to be done? Have you discussed your conclusions or plans with anyone else? You have access to the Goblins through Bill, The Ministry with any Auror here, not to mention some of the greatest minds in Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Potions, Runes and just about anything else one can think of.  Heck, you could at one point discuss things with Nicholas Flamel. There are literally dozens if not tens of dozens of people you could have gone to talk about what had to happen but did you? I know you never talked to me and from the look on everyone else’s face around you, it doesn’t look like you talked to them either.  My Mum has a saying for that. Someone who only takes their own counsel has an idiot for a client.”

“There is still the matter of the prophecy!”  Albus protested.

“Delivered by a sherry soaked fraud that was desperate for a job,” Minerva countered.  “Don’t you find that the least bit suspicious?”

“It was confirmed at the Department of Mysteries.”

“Who confirm every prophecy that comes through their doors,” Tonks added in.  “It’s their one sure fire way to continue funding to their department. Ninety percent of the prophecies are complete hokum and the rest are filed under the self-fulfilling variety.  Neither of which are considered that important.”

Arthur shook his head in disgust and glared at the foolish old man now simply sitting on the floor.  “I’m going to collect my son and take him home. I strongly suggest you straighten your affairs out with both the Goblins and the Ministry before you even consider darkening my door.  And if I ever hear you meddling in the affairs of my children again, any of my children, may God have mercy on your soul because you’ll not get any from me. Am I clear?”

“I would like to point out that your adoption of Harry is not an actual-”

“AM I CLEAR!”

“Crystal.”

Arthur snorted in disdain before turning back to his children and wife.  “Come on you lot, let’s go bring Harry home.”

***

The evening before the fateful meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry still had one last sit down of his own looming before him.  Though to be honest he wasn’t sure why he was getting these meetings. Not that they weren’t helping, because so far they’d been bloody brilliant.  Still, he would like to know why he was so important to be visited in this way.

“Don’t you think you’re special?” a young woman with mocha skin and dark hair asked as she sat down next to him.  “I know of at least three people that think you’re pretty special. Add in the Weasleys and that number climbs quite a bit higher.  Then there’s Remus, Tonks, Fleur and her little sister, Katie, Angie, Alicia. Heck, you’re almost a God to Oliver Wood, though I think he might have a bit of a Quidditch crush going for you there.”

Harry groaned and put his head in his hands.  “Bloody hell. Let me guess. Love.”

The woman raised an eyebrow in amusement.  “And what’s so bad about Love?”

“You mean besides you being ‘the Power the Dark Lord knows not’?” Harry shot back.  “Not a thing. Well, maybe the fact that I have no idea about you either. That might be a problem.”

Love rolled her eyes and stood up.  “Come on Harry. A walk will do you good and it will make our conversation flow easier.”

Harry shrugged and stood before following her with a slow easy gait.  “So where are we going?”

“Just around the block,” she assured him.  “A little exercise won’t hurt you and it will give me a few object lessons.  First I would like to clarify something with you. I am not a power. I am not a tool or a weapon, no matter what that doddering arse wants to believe.  I am a fundamental force of the universe, just as much as Magic and Death. Yes, people use us and twist our purpose but that doesn’t mean that we are here for those reasons.”

“Not that I think it should be that way, but then why do you exist?” Harry asked as they walked past a house.  Inside he could hear arguing and shouting. Part of him felt the need to do something, but Love put her arm on his shoulder and shook her head.

“We’re here to keep things going,” she explained as a woman came storming out of the house with her child in her arms.  “If not for that mother’s love for her child, she’d likely stayed with the man and meet a rather grisly end.” They watched as the woman placed her child in a car and they both drove off.  “However, her love for her little girl not only made her strive to get said child far away from the abusive situation but also save herself. When people listen to us, we can be quite persuasive.”

“Then why haven’t you ever been here for me?” Harry asked in a small voice.  

“Harry, I’ve always been there.” Love led him down the road as she continued speaking.  “Every time Arabella secretly healed some of your wounds with potion laced soup and then railed at Dumbledore to get you out of there.  Every time a teacher said something only to get transferred or fired. Every time the Weasleys fought to get you to stay with them and most importantly when a certain young witch saw you hurting and had to do something, anything, to get you to feel better.  Every time, I tried to get you somewhere better only to be stopped by one very determined and stubborn old man.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.  “You were stopped by Dumbledore?  But I thought you were supposed to be the all-powerful force of nature.”

Love shrugged and gave a wry smile of her own.  “Never underestimate the power of small minded men who believe themselves infallible.  They will often destroy the world in spite of their intentions.“ She turned and picked up a small stone, handing it to Harry.  “And the problem more often than not is that they insist on something foolish like knowing love. I’m not a field of study or research and most definitely not an arcane secret to be ferreted out.  You don’t know love. You feel it.”

Harry looked down at the stone and noted it was somewhat clear with a pinkish hue.  It was at once cool and slowly warming to his touch as well as smooth and slightly sharp on the sides.  In some ways, the stone reminded him of the woman in front of him. He cocked his head to the side and gave Love a small smile.  “So what did Hermione do to get you to come to help me?”

Love gave him a look.  “So certain that was the witch I was talking about, eh.”

“It just feels like something she would do.”  Harry held up the stone to the fading light around him, watching as the dusk reflected in it was somewhat more beautiful than the actual event.  “So how much did she risk this time to make sure I was going to be okay?”

“Not as much as you’d think,” Love replied with a laugh.  “We were somewhat pushing her to do it and she got some help at just the right time.  You do realize that she is stupidly in me with you.”

Harry coughed and blushed a bit as they headed back to Number 4.  “She could do a lot better. I mean she’s brilliant and beautiful and thinks circles around the rest of us.  She could have any guy she wanted. Or girl if she went that way for what it matters. Why would she want to be stuck with me?”

Love snorted.  “Maybe you should let her make that decision and thank your lucky stars when she chooses you.”

Harry chewed his lower lip in indecision before shrugging and agreeing.  “I’ll write her a letter tonight and see what she says.”

“Nope,” Love counters.  “Ask her in person the next time you see her.  I’ve got a feeling that it will be sooner than you think.”

Harry nodded briefly before reaching out and hugging Love.  “Thank you. And could you thank Magic and Death for me if you should happen to see them before I do again?”

“Harry we’re always here, but thanks for the gesture.”

Harry shrugged and gave her a grin.  “It felt like the right thing to do.”

Love rolled her eyes and turned around.  “Go have completely inappropriate dreams about Hermione and give Lust something to do.  Oh, and you might want to go ahead and pack. You know, just in case.”

***

Harry found himself leaving Number 4 the next afternoon, surrounded by a very menacing looking Mooney, four angry looking Weasley men (and Merlin be damned if he ever wanted to see the twins looking that pissed ever again) and of course a very mothering Molly.  After assuring Harry that he would never be setting foot in that house again and loading him into a rather impressive looking limousine (provided by Gringotts) he was then whisked away to the bank and given a crash course in his finances.

Three hours and more lamented time with a blood quill (this time for a good cause) later, and Harry was on his way to his home for the next two years: the Burrow.  He no sooner had stepped out of the Floo then he was grabbed and hugged by a familiar chestnut haired missile. He breathed in the familiar scent of his friend before whispering “Thank you, Hermione.  You saved me again.”

She looked up him with her bright brown eyes and beamed.  “I’m so happy you’re alright. And it wasn’t just me. Neville and Luna helped.”

“But it was your idea, I bet.”  Harry countered.

“It wasn’t anything major, Harry.  Honest.”

“Oh Merlin!” Luna shouted, surprising both teens before she grabbed them by the arms and dragged them to the nearest broom cupboard.  Before either could protest, she then shoved them inside and slammed the door shut. “And I don’t want to see either of you out of there one second before your lips are permanently swollen from snogging!  Am I clear!”

Harry blinked as he tried to regain his bearings.  “Hermione, why did Luna shut us up in a broom cupboard?”

“Probably wanting us to get past the awkward phase but not going beyond second base,” Hermione replied, obviously trying to get her bearings herself.

“What’s second base?”

“Hands under the shirt but above the bra.”

“Oh...Oh!”

***

Voldemort surveyed his loyal Death Eaters feeling that something wasn’t quite right.  His gaze passed over the kneeling supplicants for a third time before he noticed the strange young woman looking only passably amused at the masked masses around her.  She gave Voldemort a half smile before saying, “Oh don’t mind me, Tom. I’m just here to see the results of my brother’s handiwork and cleaning up the remains.”

Voldemort raised his wand to cut down the offending party only to find his magic not responding.  “Who are you! What have you done!”

The woman stood and calmly stepped forward.  “I am that which you flee with all your being, Tom Marvolo Riddle of the House of Gaunt.  As for what I have done, Nothing yet. My brother Magic, however, has decided that you and your followers who have warped and abused his gift will no longer have access to it.  Oh, Magic still flows through most of you and you will still be able to see everything that you lost, but the ability to cast spells or use magic, that is denied to you.” Her smile turned feral as she stepped ever closer to Voldemort and he found that his body was no longer responding.  “And that is a very bad thing for two of you in particular.”

A piteous moan from next to him was all Voldemort would get to tell him that the rat Pettigrew was bleeding out once again from the open wound that helped the Dark Lord return to the world.  A return that he would now be denied once again due to offending something he never thought to be sentient, to begin with. Now as he stared into the cold emotionless eyes of the one who claimed to be Death, he felt the familiar thrill only this time clasping its grasp about himself and all that he had done to elude her was for naught.  As his followers wailed in dismay as their vaunted magics failed them, Voldemort and Pettigrew were pulled from their mortal shells and dragged to whatever hell awaited them.

***

Rufus Scrimgeour and Cornelius Fudge just returned from their meeting with the Prime Minister to find a well-dressed man sitting in the Minister’s seat looking over a ledger with Dolores Umbridge wailing in the corner.  As the two of them were about to protest his presence, the man held up a finger halting them.

“Rufus Scrimgeour,” the man finally spoke as he continued to go over his ledger. “You are quite a piece of work, unlike the greedy sniveling toe rag next to you.  You have managed to walk a razor fine line between political expediency and the law. To your credit, you have never taken a bribe in your life. Of course, like most purebloods, you are little more than a bigot who thinks that the advantages handed to you are your birthright and will fight to the end to make sure the status quo stays in effect.”

“Now see here!” the newly minted Minister started to protest only to find himself unable to continue.

“I did not give you permission to speak yet,” the man replied as he closed the book then turned his attention to Cornelius.  “Ah, Cornelius Oswald Fudge. The most corrupt piece of shit to ever be named Minister for Magic. That’s the correct title by the way.  You don’t Minister Magic but in Magic’s name. Not that you did much of that either. No, you just took their money and looked the other way as your ‘campaign contributors’ ruined and distorted my gift in the vilest and most disgusting ways imaginable.”

He stood and walked calmly over to Cornelius and peered down at him.  “Not that it matters as I have begun to take my gift back from those who don’t deserve it.  Such as the so-called Death Eaters and the waste of flesh wailing in the corner over there. No longer will I tolerate my gift being misused and abused by rapists and murderers with delusions of superiority.  No, Magic will no longer abide such treatment.”

Cornelius paled.  “But surely the most prestigious families were spared such a rash decision.”

Rufus frowned in confusion how could anyone cause magic to be stripped away from proper Witches and Wizards, no matter how vile and depraved they may be?  This man had to be stopped. It was then that he noticed how similar the man looked to a picture that hung behind the minister’s desk. That the picture was of Merlin himself caused Rufus no small bit of discomfort.

“I have stripped all who would taint my legacy, be they common or noble birth.  Be they pureblood, Half-blood, or Muggleborn. As I have done to Lucius Malfoy and Walden McNair so to have I done to Fenrir Greyback, Severus Snape and Dolores Umbridge.  As I will do to you Cornelius Fudge for what you allowed to be done in my name.”

In a flash, Cornelius was on his knees in despair as he felt the connection to his magic leave him.  Rufus feared he might be next as the man turned his gaze towards the current Minister. “Who are you to do this?”  Rufus asked in fear though a part of him felt it knew the answer already.

“I am Magic,” the man said calmly,  “summoned by three youths so pure of heart to aide one of their own in need.  I am Magic, one of three allowed to set right what we have seen as wrong in this world.  I am Magic, that which runs through the veins of every witch, wizard and magical creature regardless of their birth.  I am Magic, and I am quite put out by how I have been treated by those upon whom I have bestowed my gift. I am Magic, and you, my Minister, have a lot of explaining to do.”

Rufus paled and staggered back. “Someone did one of the old rites?” 

“And a good thing they did as well,” Magic commented as he examined his nails.  “The way you lot were headed, the Magical world would have been wiped out within a generation and I would have had to start all over.  Do you know how irritating that is? First Atlantis, then Avalon, and I would have to start all over again less than a millennium after the last time you lot fucked it up.  Let me tell you, not amused doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling. Now, what are you going to do to ensure I don’t need to make a return within let’s say the next millennium or so?”

Rufus began sweating.  He had thought the worst he would have to do was take care of Death Eaters, not face down the embodiment of magic. “I’m unsure. I’ve only been Minister for a few days.”

Magic sneered.  “What do you think I want you to do?”

Rufus looked around as if searching for something, anything that may appease the primordial.  “Um, perhaps we could open Ministry positions to a more diverse population, such as Muggleborns and Half-bloods.”  At the annoyed glare of Magic, he hurriedly continued. “On the Wizengamot as well! We’ll also get representation for the Goblins and other creatures who wish it!   We’ll make it easier for werewolves to get better care and fund research into a cure! We’ll….We’ll…”

“Add in destroying the Dementors and making a more civil prison and it will at least be a start,” Magic replied with a snort.

“But Dementors can’t be killed,” Scrimgeour protested.

“Herd them with Patroni and shove them through my sister’s veil in the bowels of this building,” Magic declared as if it were obvious.   

“What you are asking will take a lot of effort,” Rufus protested.

“Doing your job often does,” Magic countered. 

“I can only do so much!”

“I’ll be certain to leave enough of an example of you that your successor will try harder.”

“Wait!” Rufus wailed as he sank down to his knees.  “Wait. I will do as much as I can, but you have to give me something to work with.”

Magic rolled his eyes.  “You would think that squibbing the Death Eaters would have been enough, but as you wish.” He waved his hand and a small potted plant appeared on the Minister’s desk.  “I will show you my pleasure or lack thereof through this plant. So long as I approve of your behavior in office, it will continue to thrive. Stray and it will begin to sicken and fade.  If it should die… Best to think of the plant’s wellbeing as your own while you are in office. Better for all concerned. You might also wish to inform your successors as I fear it is now tied to the office itself and not any particular Minister.”

Rufus sighed and gave a jaundiced look at the plant.  “Not exactly what I was hoping for, but I thank you for your counsel.  I will try my best.”

Magic looked at Rufus before he began to fade from sight.  “Here’s a bit of advice: Don’t try. Just do it.”

***

Severus paced back and forth in his home, waiting for Albus to make one of his grand entrances or for the Aurors to arrest him for some charge either real or imagined when he noticed the presence in his house.  A presence that had once appeared at Lily’s behest to help him in his hour of need. Help that he rejected by going to the Death Eaters. Her presence told him what he was already suspecting. Someone had cast a similar spell for that ungrateful brat.

“Ungrateful Brat?” Love chided.  “Really Severus, even you can not be that willfully blind.  Or is it that you wish the world to suffer as you have done?”

Severus scowled and waved her on.  “Well go on about it,” he snarled. “Do what you have come to do and be done with it.”

Love shook her head and sighed.  “I’m sorry, Severus. I’m sorry that Tobias Snape could never accept you as a son.  I’m sorry your mother wasn’t strong enough to spirit you away. I’m sorry that she was too prideful to ask your grandfather for help.  Most of all, I am sorry that I was never able to help that scared little boy on platform 9 and ¾, still holding onto the hand of a little red-haired girl, his only true friend.”

Severus tossed a vase at the woman, barely missing her as it slammed into the wall behind her.  “How dare you! You took them from me! I will not have you mock me now that they’re gone!”

Love was unfazed.  “Illness took your mother and you drove Lily away.  It’s ironic as you have never let go of her. Even now, you cling desperately to her, as if all your sins could be washed away by her forgiveness.  Tell me, Severus, you recall Petunia Evans. You know how foul-tempered and hate-filled she was towards Lily at the end. You know how unlikely it would be for her to treat the child of her sister with anything more than contempt.  How likely is Lily to forgive you for what you did to her son? To her husband? To her?”

“You twisted her away from me!” the potions professor bellowed.

“So it was I who tortured small children with Avery and Mulciber?  It was I who attempted to injure and kill classmates? It was I who called her a Mudblood whore?  Congratulations on editing that little piece out of the memory you left for Harry by the way. Most of all, was it I who joined the Death Eaters on the promise of killing the vaunted Marauder’s?  No Severus. That was all you.” 

Severus tried to use magic to banish her but found that it would not answer him.  “What have you done!” he demanded.

Love stepped forward, ignoring his demands.  “You alone drove away your only true friend. You alone sabotaged and tormented her only son.  You alone caused her and her husband’s death. You alone allowed a group of children under your care to go off into danger time and time again when it was your duty to stop it.”  She grabbed his hands as he tried to swing at her and forced them down to his sides. “You are the architect of all your miseries and ultimately your fate. You, Severus Tobias Snape, are the only person to blame for your woes.”

“I hate you!” Severus shouted in a vain attempt to get her to end his torment.

Love only shook her head and smiled sadly at him.  “And in spite of it all, I still love you.” She pulled him into a hug and held him until he finally ceased in his struggles.  “Magic has made his decree on those who have abused his gift. You are to lose your access to magic. You will still be able to see the Magical world, but access to it shall from this point on be denied to you.  You will not be able to discuss it with nonmagicals and the magical world will look on you and your kind with the same disdain or pity they have for squibs.”

Severus was by this point sobbing.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Love answered softly.  “I also know that you tried to make amends in your own way.  As I said before, you are still that little eleven-year-old boy on the platform.  So perhaps it is time that we give you a different start.”

No one would see the flash of light that filled the house and most would be unsurprised to find it empty as the Aurors did the next morning when they went to collect him for possession of illicit potions ingredients.  Most believed that he had simply fled before he could be arrested. That he never reappeared in the magical world was neither noticed or cared about.

***

Detective Danny Reagan was on his way into work when he saw a small raven-haired boy sitting on the step in front of the precinct door.  More than a little concerned that a boy would be out at this hour, he knelt down and looked the boy in the eye. “Hey there, kiddo. Whatcha doin’ out at this hour.  Most kids are either asleep or watching cartoons.”

The boy looked at him with nearly black eyes. “Are you Officer Danny?”

Reagan swallowed thickly and nodded, not liking where this was going.  “Yeah, that’s my name. It’s actually Detective Danny Reagan.”

“The lady said I should wait here for you,” the boy answered.  “She said you’d help me get a new mummy and daddy.” 

“She did huh,”  Danny asked softly. “What did this lady look like?”

The boy shrugged.  “She said I should tell you to remember Falushah.”

“That’s Fallujah,”  Danny gently corrected,  “and I remember. Well, a deal’s a deal.”  He stood and held out a hand. “How about we go get you a jelly donut and a Coke first.”  His heart almost broke as the kid looked up at him wide-eyed and nodded eagerly. “So what’s your name?”  He asked as he led the kid into the precinct.

“Severus.”

***

It was approaching dawn as Albus sat in his office wondering how everything had fallen apart so quickly.  Surely they were doomed now that the Order no longer followed his leadership. Tom would think nothing of slaughtering everyone and everything and the world would be finished.  Didn’t they see that sacrifice was needed for the greater good? Didn’t they see that as much as he wished it didn’t have to be that Harry and likely many more would have to die?  Not him of course. No, he needed to live and guide the world to a better tomorrow. His was the harder job, so in reality, they should be thanking him for taking such a burden off their shoulders.

“Can you believe this?” a voice shouted out alerting Albus that he was in actuality not alone in his office.  “He actually has the audacity to believe he is the only one that has a clue about how things work, even after just about everyone in his little social club chastised him for his hubris.”

“I told you,” a second, more feminine voice responded.  “Albus doesn’t truly care who he hurt so long as he is the hero of his own story.  It’s sickening.”

“There was still hope that he was misguided,” a third voice added sadly, this one also female.  “Still, we should know better than to argue with you over matters of the heart, sister dear.”

Albus reached for his wand only to have it plucked from his fingers by a young man, likely the first speaker.  He shook his head and sighed. “I had such hope that you could be redeemed, Albus. I truly did. I thought it was all one big misunderstanding.  Surely you wouldn’t risk the possibility of creating an Obscurus just because you wanted to mold a boy. Not after the nightmare that happened to your family.  You had to not know what was happening to the boy, the innocent child, that was laid on the doorstep of his relatives.”

“Oh he did,” the second speaker countered as she came into view.  “Arabella begged him to take Harry out of that house. Later he had to obliviate Poppy Pomfrey in order to keep her from going to the authorities.  Granted he had help in Vernon Dursley bribing the principal of Harry’s Elementary into getting rid of observant teachers, but on the magical side, it was all Albus.  And that’s not even the tip of how he twisted our gifts to his own ends.”

Albus looked at the two, now three people in the room.   He honestly could say that he had never seen them before, but they were somehow quite familiar to him for some reason.  “I am afraid you have me at a loss,” he finally admitted, trying to stall for time until someone could possibly assist him in the situation. A furtive look over at Fawkes showed that the bird was less than inclined to offer aide and looked, dare he say deferential to the three people in his office.  “Perhaps you’ll indulge an old man and introduce yourselves and how exactly you have managed to secret yourselves into my office.”

The second woman looked at him with disdain.  “We are those you have offended most with your infantile machinations and petty schemes, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.  We are the representation of that which you profess great knowledge of yet know nothing of import. We represent the forces of Magic, Love, and Death.  Let free for the purpose of setting what is wrong to rights, we have finally come to judge your actions.”

“Ah,” Albus replied in amusement.  “And just how are you to judge me when you do not have all the facts?’

The man snorted.  “Would you be referring to the so-called prophecy delivered by Sybil Trelawney after she had downed a dose of mummer’s milk?  Or are you referring to Tom Riddle attempting to split his soul after being slipped a tome on their construction by an anonymous benefactor who in reality was named Albus Dumbledore?  How about the fact that you were present for the initial confrontation between Fenrir Greyback and young Remus Lupin’s father but did nothing to protect the boy until after he was bitten.  All the better as you predicted the need of an inroad with the werewolves later on.”

“How about how you drove wedges in families and sowed distrust between brother and sister when you knew exactly who the spies in your organization were,” the first woman continued.  “Or how you encouraged people’s distrust of your so-called favored house so they would have no one but you to turn to. How about how you isolated children to turn them into your pawns, to be as easily cast aside as your sister, brother and your own godson.”

The second woman stepped around the desk and lifted Albus up bodily.  “We know all your secrets and all your sins, Albus Dumbledore. We know what truly rests in your heart and how much could have changed if you had but acted sooner or with purer purpose.  You, not Gellert Grindelwald or Tom Riddle, have come the closest to ending the magical world and for the shallowest of all reasons: Vanity. You could not abide by your sister being the most loved, so allowed her to be attacked.  You could not be bothered with taking care of your sister, so you let her be drawn into a battle that resulted in her death.”

“You could not conceive of your godson being more brilliant than you so had him discredited and cast out of Hogwarts,” The man picked up the recriminations.  “Even more inconceivable was a bastard orphan outshining you, so you also arranged his fall. And when he became more powerful and dangerous than you could manage, instead of admitting your failings and asking for help you fed him victims by the hundreds.  And when a child is named the hero instead of you, you ultimately plot that child’s demise.”

“The boy is a Horcrux!” Albus shouted in desperation.  “He has to die before Tom can.”

“No,” the woman not holding him replied.  “He isn’t. And even if he were, my brother Magic has already stripped Tom of his magic while my sister ensured he met his final reward. The Horcruxes are no longer an issue, just like the Death Eaters and those that most aided them.  Magic has judged them all and stripped his gift from them.”

Albus paled.  So many pureblood families decimated.  “Dear Merlin why?”

The man, now identified as Magic looked at Albus coldly.  “They corrupted my gift, twisting it into a horrid mockery of the beauty intended.  How could I do otherwise? Would you rather Magic die out and be forgotten. Of course, you have twisted my gift far more than them.  How many memories have you stolen? How many people have you forced to act against their better natures? You are lucky that I deferred to my sisters for a more fitting punishment, lest I express my full displeasure upon you.”

“You have forgotten yourself, Albus,” the woman holding him spoke, the chill in her voice easily identifying her as Death.  “You have looked upon each of us as an abstract, a tool with which to use and then discard when another more useful tool comes along.  We are the forces of creation and destruction and as such take offense at the games of mortals corrupting our purpose. Magic the Creator, Love the Sustainer, and Death who clears the way for new growth.  You would twist us till we had no meaning and this world decayed into nothing with our charges scrabbling over morsels discarded from your table.”

“You have no mercy in your heart,”  the other woman sighed. “Even now, you harden your heart to my presence, convinced you know me when Love can never be known, only felt.  As your crimes seem so solidified and justified in your mind we must likewise be just as unflinching in our punishment. You are cast from our presence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.  Nevermore shall you be allowed the presence of Love or Magic in your life and forever are you barred from the domain of Death. Trapped until the end of time you shall be until the world ends. Forbidden from acting with our children, from henceforth you may only observe, never to interact.  So I have declared so mote it be.”

The other two nodded in agreement before responding with “So mote it be.”

The flash of Magic would have woken the entire castle had anyone been there.  It was still early in the summer holiday and the remaining heads of house were busy finding new instructors for the coming year. Only Hagrid was about to notice the change in the air and was soon asleep again due to a rather prodigious amount of grog that he had partaken of earlier with his brother Grawp.  

Fawkes, who had been witness to the events in the office decided that it was perhaps time for him to find elsewhere to spend his time.  Obviously, he was crap at advising people as the human he tried to advise always did seemingly the wrong thing. Perhaps he should find a nice nest and settle down with someone.  

***

The next morning Luna and Ginny watched as Harry and Hermione walked around the pond.  It was a touching scene Ginny had to admit if a bit of a serious letdown for her and Ron. “I never had a chance with him,” she finally admitted to her best friend.

“Ginny.” She could hear the disappointment in Luna’s sigh. “You weren’t in love with Harry.  You were crushing on the Boy-Who-Lived. You were fantasizing about a fictitious character drummed up to sell children’s books and toys.  It would be like me saying I was going to marry Wonder Woman and then find out Linda Carter is already married.”

“Who?”

“It’s not important,” Luna chided with fond exasperation.  “What is important is that you fell for a dream, an ideal. You look at Harry and still see the Boy-Who-Lived.  You were at most a bit player in his story. Now, look at Hermione. She has been a constant part of his life almost since he stepped on the train to Hogwarts that first time.  She’s in love with Harry and all the mess that comes with it. Not just the myth and the fantasy but the whole collateral Harry. She has seen the good and the bad and is the first to be there when he needs someone, even when he tries to push everyone away.  She never flinches, never hides and is the first to tell him when he’s being thick. That’s love, Ginevra. A love so deep and intense that it makes me ashamed to have ever used the word before.”

Ginny blinked and looked at her friend.  “Is that why you and Neville helped her?”

Luna blushed and looked away.  ”I’m not sure about Neville, but I had somewhat selfish motives for calling on Magic.  Hermione, of course, called Love, but I wanted to help Harry in such a way that it would also help someone I care very deeply about.”

“Who was that?” Ginny asked in curiosity.

Luna allowed herself a small smile.  “Someone with their head in the clouds.  I might tell you about her someday.”

***

Neville sat in his parent’s room at Saint Mungo's just watching them sleep.  He didn’t even start when the raven-haired girl appeared next to him. “It’s time isn’t it.” His voice was barely above a whisper but he knew that she had heard him.

“Yes,” Death replied softly. “Would you like to say your goodbyes?”

“I did that a long time ago,” Neville responded with a sad smile. “When I realized they were never going to get better.” He paused before asking, “Will it hurt? For them I mean.”

Death smiled and gave Neville a gentle squeeze.  “For them, it will be like waking up from a long sleep to find their friends waiting for them.”

“And for me?”

Death sighed.  “A girl I’m almost as close to as Harry once said that Death is easy.  It’s living that’s hard.* That’s what you have to do, Neville. You have the hard job and I don’t expect to see you for quite some time.”

Neville sighed and nodded his head.  “A deal’s a deal. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Death said with a smile before standing and walking over to his parents.  “Frank, Alice, it’s time to go. Your friends are waiting for you.”

***

*From the B:TVS episode “The Gift”

Endnote: Yes, I know that it’s the most quoted line from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but it sums up what she’s trying to say to Neville precisely.  He’s got the harder part of the deal. He’s got to live his life, not just for his parents but for himself as well. 


End file.
